Jason Atherton is a hugely accomplished chef. He’s not a limelight seeker, but he gets attention anyway, turning up on any cook’s bookshelf in anthologies of British excellence. His first restaurant (after a turbulent Gordon Ramsay tutelage) was Pollen Street Social, which has it all – a sceney atmosphere, distinctive food. This spin-off is darker lit and more informal, with 'sharing jars’ and waiters who wink. I love that.

Indeed, all the service is fabulous. The maître d’ found us a table even when we were nearly an hour late (don’t ask me how it happened), and I think they have the most passionate, engaging, approachable sommelier in London.

First there are small plates to share. A tapas-like bolt-on, their purpose was opaque but the combinations made my mouth water: mackerel and horseradish, pork rillettes and mustard. CC and I had salt cod brandade (£4.50), presented in a jar with crisps poking out of it like a fast-food Stonehenge. I loved the brandade and the parsley oil drizzled around it, but the vinegary crisps interrupted the harmony. Brandade is basically perfect as it is. Put some parsley on it, sure, but studding it with salt and vinegar crisps, even homemade ones, makes no more sense than putting them in a trifle.

CC’s ravioli – one giant event the size of a poached egg – had wild-boar bolognese, Berkswell and peppered hearts and kidneys (£8.50). Never have I encountered such a gulf between how a dish sounds and its taste; I thought the offal would be real, served with pepper. In fact it had been freeze-dried, ground and served as pepper.

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I couldn’t really taste it, and it seemed a bit gimmicky. Of the ravioli itself, CC said, 'Isn’t it a bit Heinz?’ whereupon we couldn't shake the hint of the canning factory. It didn’t even taste as classy as Dolmio, but rather like a 1980s tinned spag bol. I’m sure it was made from scratch – they probably keep wild boar round the back – but somehow the freshness had been squeezed out.

I had octopus carpaccio with orange grenobloise and black olive oil (£10.50), and that was all smashing – fresh, slippery octopus, zingy oranges full of character, the black olives bringing it all together. My main course – a pork chop with beetroot, savory, spring onion and white polenta (£18) – was dreary, though. The vegetables were good, and the polenta was the purée texture rather than a fried block (which I can’t stand), but the chop was an inch thick and as dry as – nope, I’ve spent hours trying to find a simile for the dryness of dry meat, too proteiny for sawdust, too fibrous for sand or wood, and simply too dry to resemble anything but itself.

CC ordered curried, baked hake (£19) with cauliflower cheese, but what turned up was hake with broccoli and squid. The curry flavour was nothing like pronounced enough – it seemed to exist mainly for its colouring. The whole thing was freshish but bland.

I finished with an almond sponge, drenched in honey, with a goat’s curd ice cream (£6.50). It was really lovely, principally in mouthfeel – sticky but not gluey, squidgy but not claggy, it was basically perfect. Only once I’d got over the marvel of that did I notice its wonderful flavour; I can’t think of any foods but almonds and honey that are at once so distinctive and so discreet. The sea-salt-baked pineapple with lime and coconut (£6.50) was a sort of mousse, sprinkled with roasted coconut. That was great as well.

Conclusion: puds brilliant; staff even better. Otherwise it dearly needs to walk it like it talks it.

AROUND THE HOUSES...

The Lighthouse Boylestone, Ashbourne, Derbyshire (01335 330658)

Despite its land-locked position, this is a beacon for local foodies, who adore the young chef’s innovative cooking. Soft poached eggs wrapped in smoked salmon are breadcrumbed and deep-fried (£6.95), while roast poussin is stuffed with wild-garlic cream (£17.59)

Enjoy an aperitif in the pretty garden, weather permitting, before moving into the front room of Anne and Neil Allen’s late-17th-century cottage for a dinner of, say, rose veal with a mushroom timbale and porcini cream (£48 for four courses)

Linthwaite House Crook Road, Windermere (015394 88600)

Whether you’re a lucky guest at this country hotel, or chance upon it after a lakeside ramble, the food – and its presentation – is sure to impress. Try the almond-crusted sea trout with watercress crackers and seaweed foam (£52 for four courses)